


The Woman Who Has (almost) Everything

by vienne_la_nuit



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Carter being great, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, J'onn is way out of his depth but at least he is wearing a skirt, Pre-Relationship, during and post 1x13, mother-son dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienne_la_nuit/pseuds/vienne_la_nuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat finally (somewhat) faces her fears, just in time to see how Kara is hurting, when no one else would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woman Who Has (almost) Everything

**Author's Note:**

> I am really grateful for this pairing because I gained a friend.
> 
> I haven't watched 1x14 yet, I am not sure I want to. women competing against each other and putting each other down is not my cup of tea.

 

The early morning hours find Cat leaning against the railing on the balcony of her home.  She had a particularly restless night, and after her latest nightmare, she refuses to go back to sleep.  The already warm, pre-dawn air with a hint of salt in it, the dying sounds of the night and the certainty that the awfulness of yesterday has already ended, usually help to rein her wayward thoughts, before she has to put her mask back on.  But as it seems, the happenings of yesterday finally managed to truly overwhelm her.  So her usual morning ritual of anchoring herself in the moment and just letting go for a few heartbeats doesn’t work.      
She angrily adjusts her blue dressing gown and grits her teeth.  She has about an hour before Carter gets up and by then she needs to be ready to face the day.

And whatever fresh hell it might bring.

At this thought, she roughly rubs her palm against the railing in her frustration.      
Because her current state of mind already counts as “hell” in Cat’s book.

Fact is that Cat Grant is a woman of very few regrets, and even less self-doubt.  
Yet, as her eyes slid from skyscrapers to the first few, miserable ray of sunlight glinting off of glass surface, to the, for now, still visible stars, she can’t help but question and doubt herself.       
Even though she vowed never ever to do either.

With most of her vows, decisions born out of a desperate attempt at defiance, this too was influenced by her mother.  When she was 11 years old at the end of the schoolyear, she wrote a passionate open letter to the school management to protest that The Planet of Apes was made required reading.  After all, in light of signing the new SALT II treaty, books that insinuate - however how thinly veiled - that life after a nuclear annihilation would still go on Earth, shouldn’t make the required list, or at least not without proper criticism.  Her arguments and her eloquence at the age of 11 caused quite the stir.  The school management and her English teacher scoffed at first, but after her French teacher leaked the letter to local newspapers, environmentalist groups and all of his anti-imperialist friends, Cathrine Grant suddenly became undesirable number one in the eye of the school management and, most importantly, an embarrassment in her mother’s circle of friends.  Which didn’t help her already strained relationship with her mother.  At all.          
Despite having been praised by established journalists, despite having realised that her true passion is non-fiction writing (which later lead to journalism) and that she will pursue this dream from then on, Cat’s mother did everything to make her doubt herself.  Her mother’s constant and cruel insults, her passive-aggressive comments became even more frequent than before, until they culminated in one, even by her mother’s standards awful argument.  That mid-summer night, when Cat listened to her mother telling her just how ashamed of her she is, as she looked into those cold, cruel eyes, as she heard that one, life-changing sentence: “I wish, you have never been born”, Cat vowed that this was the last time her mother saw her cry and that she allowed anyone, _anyone_ at all, to belittle her or to make her doubt herself.           
And ever since then she tried her hardest to keep true to those vows.  Sometimes she still slips up, and allows her mother too much reign over her emotional well-being, but she has checks and balances built into her life to minimise that particular damage.

The only time she is truly powerless against her fit of self-doubt and yes, at times even self-loathing, is when she thinks of Adam.  She can’t talk about him, about what she feels when she thinks of him.  Naturally, Carter knows of Adam, but she is not going to discuss with her young son, how sometimes around four in the morning when her armour is the thinnest she is disgusted with herself, and that she doubts that she is a good person.  She would never ever voice thoughts like these, partially because she has to maintain an image, partially because at the end of the day, after the spell of self-loathing and self-doubt pass, she doesn’t regret anything.  She is sorry that she couldn’t be there for Adam, she is sorry that she missed so much in his life.  But she doesn’t regret her decisions.  She is self-aware enough to know, she wouldn’t have been a good mother back then.  And having experienced just what it means to grow up beside a person, who never should have been allowed around children, she knows when to let go.

At one point in the years following Adam, she felt she has reached the level of accomplishment that proved her own worth to herself, that she could be proud of herself, that she has achieved her dreams and so much more.  And then she realised, she wants to grow as a human being, that she not only wants to reach her fullest potential, but she also wants to do right by people.  In her own way.  Yes, hidden behind a ruthless image that her line of work and status requires, and buried underneath the thick layer of defence mechanism of sharp tongue, sarcasm and sass, but still, she wants to do right.  However how subjective and undefinable “right” is.  For Cat, this concept encompasses being harsh and yes, at times being cruel, because she won’t coddle anyone or offer them any opportunities to flaunt or to not realise their own privileges.  And yes, she will tear down or manipulate anyone and anything that stands in the way of her being true to her principles, standards or consciousness.  So yes, in her own way, Cat wants to do right by people.  And this is also the reason why she is reporting them the unveiled, at times ugly truth.  Because in order to grow, one needs to understand how gruesome reality is.  This is also the reason, why she almost never bothers to take part in completely unnecessary and absolutely inefficient social theatrics, such as being polite, when someone is wrong or lazy.   
And most importantly, she wants to be a good mother for Carter.  She loves him unconditionally, she will support him, no matter what, and she will tear anyone apart, who dares to hurt him.          
She wants to be true to herself.

Cat sighs.  By now she is sure, she can’t escape her wayward thoughts, not this time.  So she might as well face her fears and squash her misgivings.  Or at least try to do so.  Because after seeing Adam without any kind of preparation, out of the blue, and well, after Kara, she ought to at least gather herself.  Instead she is preoccupied and worse, she is stalling.  She is musing about her motivations, when she damn well knows them.  Hell, she even thinks about her mother, of all the dreadful topics, just to avoid addressing what truly troubles her.  
She is slowly getting angrier at the world, at herself and at the feeling of self-loathing that dared to worm itself into her mind.

She purses her lips in displeasure.  Even the sun has the gall to vomit more and more colours on the sky, before she is even remotely close to sort her feelings and thoughts out!

In a rare moment of self-awareness in her anger, Cat catches her last train of thought.  She realises, just how ridiculous she is behaving.  A tired, deep breath later, when she feels her anger leave her body, she acknowledges the fact that she needs to make decisions now.  She won’t run.  She is going to face her fears and find a plan.  Preferably one that doesn’t require lashing out at yet another person.  At least not undeservingly.

Intellectually Cat knows, she has many flaws, but she isn’t an awful person.  And even if she is perceived as such, at least she’ll always have the reassurance that she is never going to reach the level of vileness that her mother must have patented by now.  No matter how many people she might wrong, hurt or exploit in the rest of her life.

However, intellectually knowing something counts little to nothing around five in the morning, when she couldn’t sleep through the night, because all her insecurities, her self-doubt and no small amount of fear of never seeing Adam again, of bitterly failing was catapulted to the surface.  Cat tries to tell herself that Adam did reassure her, he would visit.  Not to mention, meeting him wasn’t a total disaster.  However, she can’t help but question herself, her decisions and yes, in this moment she even despises herself.

Because no one makes her feel as insecure and as worthless as Adam does.

Yet, despite having seemingly nothing in common, despite having him abandoned, despite not being able to articulate her feelings, she loves Adam dearly.

Cat closes her eyes tiredly, her shoulders drop as she slumps against the railing.

_‘I love him.  So much.’_

She truly lets this realisation sink in.  Until now, she hasn’t dared to allow herself putting this feeling into words, not even in her thoughts.  After all, she had never hoped that Adam would ever want to do anything with her.  She thought, she had lost all her rights to think of him in these terms, when she gave him up.  But now, now everything has changed.  And for the first time since making that decision, Cat dares to hope.  She even dares to allow herself to feel her love for him to the fullest.         
A small smile begins to play in the corners of her mouth, and for the first time this morning, the day doesn’t seem to look as awful as she suspected.

 _‘Yes.  This day might even turn out less ugly than expected.’_   She drums out a silly rhythm against the railing.

The recognition, just how much she loves Adam, the reminder that she wants to stay true to herself, and the fact that she realises, when she is in a position where she has to leave the other person to make the first step, give her finally an idea.

She needed “merely” two awful conversations, pushing away and lashing out at Kara in the process, a few hours of nightmares-filled sleep, tossing around in her bed and standing on her balcony at the crack of dawn to reach this point.  But now, she finally decided, how to handle Adam.  She is going to give him space, she isn’t going to push him and she will wait for him.  However, she is going to write him a few lines once every week, so he knows that she is not only thinking of him, but also that he matters, so much.

Cat feels her tears gathering, she is so relived about finally having decided, how to approach Adam.  She still feels insecure, she supposes that is normal at times, if it comes to one’s own child.  But she has at least reached the decision to be in Adam’s life in whatever capacity he allows her to be.

_‘And now, on to the other matter.’_

Cat opens her eyes and adjusts her dressing gown on her shoulders in a, for her atypical, hesitant manner.  As she looks out at the ever lighter getting sky, she wishes she could have come up with a plan, how to handle the “Kara-situation”.      
Hell, at this point, she’d even settle –and she never does _that_! – for a vague outline of an idea.

For once, she doesn’t fight the need to lightly shuffle her left foot.  This is her only remaining nervous tick, and as such she hates it with fiery passion.  This morning however, she feels so insecure and worse, indecisive that she allows herself this small comfort.

Aside from her mother, there are three people, who could rattle Cat’s careful composure.  
Adam, Carter and most disturbingly, Kara Danvers.         
She already has a plan how to address the fine mixture of guilt, self-loathing, fear, insecurity and love that she feels, whenever she thinks of Adam.  Carter, her beautiful baby boy, she never ever wants to stop worrying about, or trying to do her best by him, she will always love him.  But Kara, her assistant is an entirely different affair, and not merely because she isn’t family.            
Frankly, Cat doesn’t quite understand yet the effect Kara “Sunny” Danvers has on her.  One thing however is abundantly clear: that girl has a barely unmatched power to rattle her.

Kara not only excels at all of Cat’s expectations, she is smart, has an awkward (and terrible) sense of humour, is apparently light-years ahead of Cat in terms of emotional maturity, yet she also could keep her perky, caring, compassionate nature, despite everything that must have happened to her.  Add to this the fact that Kara stands up for her principles, even against Cat and she has the bravery (or foolishness) to question even Cat.  So yes, Cat begrudgingly but still has to admit that Kara has gained her respect.  Not only that, but Kara’s earnestness and honest curiosity are like a breath of fresh air in Cat’s line of work.  So despite feeling at times like her teeth are going to root and her cynicism is begging for mercy at all that goodness, perk and compassion that Kara effortlessly throws in everyone’s face, Cat has to acknowledge that Kara Danvers is someone very special.           
Even without taking her suspicions about just who truly Kara is into account.

Cat thinks of how Kara sometimes looks at her, those unbelievable blue eyes full of unwavering _belief_. Of all the things that could possible disturb and rattle Cat, Kara goes straight for the jugular and frequently does something as foolish and as incomprehensible as looking at Cat with belief.  In Cat, in the fact that Cat is going to solve the newest crisis (she always does, but still), in how Cat can do better, be better.  And the strangest thing is that Cat _tries_ to do better.  The number of incompetent people, who didn’t get fired after their first mistake is increasing.  She even dropped the interview with the hobbit.  And most importantly, she didn’t came up with an excuse, but faced Adam.  (Yes, by now she is grateful for that, but this doesn’t mean at all that she is going to forget Kara’s stunt any time soon.  The girl has some serious grovelling to do.)            
The only time that she didn’t rise to Kara’s belief in her and to her pleading blue eyes was when Cat couldn’t stop pushing Kara about revealing her true identity.  Looking back, that moment of not listening to Kara was the first real blow to their relationship.

And now, Cat is more uncertain than ever about what to do with Kara.  She has no idea, how to deal with someone, who not only believes in her, in a best of her that even Cat didn’t know existed; despite witnessing Cat’s worst daily.  Someone who also listens to her and not because she is paid for it, but because she values Cat’s opinion or advice and sincerely wants to hear them.  Someone, who has enough integrity to stand up to Cat and see, address her as a person, not as the Queen of All Media.  Someone who has the cheek to meddle in Cat’s life, and risk her wrath, when she sees that Cat desires something from the bottom of her heart, but she hasn’t gathered her courage to reach out for it yet.  Someone, who obviously trusts Cat, but not enough to truly open herself up…

Cat grunts rather inelegantly and slams her palm against the railing in her frustration.

Her observations about Kara, her own at times confusing feelings regarding her, her fear of losing Kara when Bizarro kidnapped her, consequently being shocked at just how much Kara means to her, the fiasco with Adam, all of this was just too much for Cat last night.  And in her infinite and everlasting wisdom, Cat Grant fell into old habits and she pushed away Kara to protect herself.      
Now she has no idea, how to resolve this mess.  Or how to clear her head for that matter.

Cat indulges in one more displeased groan, before she looks out at the city.  By now the sun has already risen, the scent of the air is changed, less salty, the night’s opportunities and hopes have vanished.         
And she still has no idea, how to approach Kara after her little speech about professionalism.

_‘Right.  Because agonising over one’s assistant is the highest form of professionalism.’_

She rolls her eyes at herself, as she turns on her heels and slowly walks back to the living room.  After all, Carter is going to wake up any minute now.

She pads to the kitchen and begins to set Carter’s favourite cereal, whole milk, mango juice, butter and jam on the island.  They eat breakfast every morning, when Carter is with her, together in the kitchen and not in the dining room.  Her beautiful boy loves the high stools.  He still enjoys swinging his legs while he chatters on about the latest dream he had, or about exciting, upcoming school projects.  He also loves to look out the skylights to the morning sky.  The windows in the dining room face the ocean, and Cat suspects, Carter dislikes if he is distracted from his morning ritual of observing the sky.  And given the fact just how fascinated Carter is with the ocean, his eyes would be drawn to the water.

The house is still silent.  Cat can’t suffer the mindless drivel of any news or radio stations this early in the morning.  She supposes, this is one of the consequences of ruling the media and having to listen to so many voices day in and day out.  She learned to love silence.

She prepares Carter’s lunch, pumpkin seeds dip sandwich with brown bread, cheese and cucumber.  She pours herself a glass of apple juice, retrieves today’s Daily Planet left in front of her entrance door by the security, sits down in the kitchen and begins to read.  After all, knowing how the enemy thinks is a must in her business.  Not to mention that nothing compares quite to the feeling of elation, when she sees that Lois Lane reports something only after Cat had already done so.

She hears that Carter must have woken up, he moves around his room.  Cat is already smiling in anticipation of seeing him for the first time today.         
When Carter was seven, about to begin elementary, he stood in front of Cat and declared in all the seriousness he could gather that he is a big boy now, and he is going to wake up alone from then on.  In true Carter fashion, he trust his arm out to show her the alarm clock he built with his father to prove his mother just how serious he is.  Cat naturally melted on the spot, and ever since then Carter wakes up alone.  Cat knows, how meticulous her son is.  She is sure that the shuffling noises from Carter’s room indicate, how he is putting out his uniform, today’s belt that must fit the colours of his shoes and the sweater he wants to wear today.

Cat can’t help but smile slightly.  She loves him so much.

_‘Any moment now.’_

She folds the paper in the certainty that Lois Lane failed yet again to one-up her, and that Supergirl is far more superior to her bulky and significantly less appealing cousin.

She takes a sip of her apple juice, as she finally hears Carter’s nearing steps.  He rounds the corner, eyes already on the skylights.  Cat grins at him, how he meticulously smoothed out his pyjamas, yet left his hair dishevelled.  She is about to greet him, when his eyes fall on her and he abruptly halts.  He looks over Cat, furrows his brows and promptly runs up to her, engulfing her in one of his rare, strong embraces, almost knocking Cat off from her stool.

She hugs him just as fiercely back and smiles surprised at him.

“Good morning to you, my Prince,” she can’t - nor would she ever want to - hide the delight at seeing him in her voice.  Her left hand drifts up to the back of his head and she begins to run her right soothingly up and down on his back.

Carter doesn’t say anything, instead he holds Cat even stronger for a moment.  Then he steps back, and looks intently at his mother.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”  He is standing completely still and looking right into Cat’s eyes.  Cat knows that he isn’t going to let this go.  Whatever this is.  She is not exactly sure, what he means, what made him react like this.  Her confusion must be written on her face, because Carter elaborates.

“You are wearing your ultramarine, satin dressing gown and drinking apple juice.  You don’t do either, unless something serious troubles you.  Is it Adam?  I thought, your talk didn’t go as bad as it could have.”  He rushes out, barely taking a breath.

Cat is dumbfounded for a long moment, as so often happens with her when it comes to Carter.  She blinks twice before she can gather herself.  Of course, her son is observant enough to pick up on her tells that even she hasn’t realised yet that existed.  And of course, her son can properly name the particular shade of blue she is wearing.

Cat smiles at her son, with that small, proud smile, eyes full of love for him.  She reaches out and lovingly caresses Carter’s cheek.  She sees that he is truly worried, so she is going to open up to him, as much as a middle-aged woman can towards her teenage son.

“Have a seat, Carter.  We are going to talk, while we eat.”  When he sits down, she kisses the top of his head to reassure him the world isn’t about to end, despite his mother having multiple personal crises.

Carter however doesn’t move apart from adjusting his posture and sitting ramrod straight.  Cat pours him a glass of mango juice, while she mulls over, what exactly she should tell.  She doesn’t touch Carter’s cereal, he likes to prepare his breakfast himself.  She sits down across him, and begins to butter her toast.

“You are right, I am a bit worried.”  She smiles fleetingly at Carter.  She is well aware that she is downplaying and overly simplifying her current state of mind, but there are just some things that she can’t share with her son.  Or anyone else for that matter.        
He is still staring at her.

“And yes, my talk with Adam went better than I would have ever dared to hope for.”  She swallows thickly, so her next sentence could come out unwavering.  “I just…  I hurt him.  And now that he sought me out, I was afraid that he would have a change of heart.  That I’d drive him away.”  She can’t help herself, by her last sentence her voice drops to a whisper.

“Which miraculously didn’t happen.”  _‘Thanks to Kara.’_   She reminds herself bitterly.  “But I was still worried that I might do something that can’t be mended.  And I lost my confidence for a while, when he said he’d go back to Opal City, despite his reassurance of coming to visit us one day.”

Cat is usually beyond uncomfortable voicing her insecurities and fears, but she wants to put Carter’s mind at ease.  So she opens up.  Even if ‘being worried’ or ‘losing her confidence’ don’t quite cut it.  She reaches out and takes Carter’s hand for a moment.

“But now you feel better?  You have a plan, how to keep the link to him up?”  He asks.

“Yes, Carter.”  Cat says emphatically with a sincere smile.

At this Carter nods, and finally begins to pull the box of cereals to himself.  By the set of his shoulders and the fact that he still isn’t swinging his legs, Cat knows that he is mulling over something.  So Cat waits.

And sure enough, Carter looks back up at her and simply states:  
“Mom?  You are a good mother.  You’ll find a way.”         
And he turns back to his cereal, methodically pours the colourful rings into his bowl with utmost concentration on his face, not realising that he single-handedly reduced the Great Cat Grant to a quivering, teary eyed mess, who barely manages to choke back a sob.

He does however notice that his mother abruptly gets up, hugs him from behind and kisses him once at the top of his head.  Carter is squirming and giggling and lightly patting Cat’s hand on his stomach.

“I love you Carter Grant.”  Cat fiercely declares into Carter’s hair, before she kisses him once more and takes her previous seat across him.

“I love you too, mom!”  Carter earnestly says.  They both flash a rather silly grin at each other.

Carter’s shoulders begin to slightly move and Cat knows he is finally swinging his legs.  He pours a generous amount of milk in his bowl and begins to munch on his cereal.  Only after the first mouthful does he look up at the sky.

Cat smiles at his antics.  She can not fathom, whatever she has done to ever deserve a child like Carter.  She puts her rose hip and lemon balm jam on her toast and eats it slowly, giving Carter enough time to stare at the sky undisturbed.  When she sees his eyes flicker down to his bowl, she asks him:

“Did you sleep well, Carter?  What did you dream about this time?”  She is smiling at him, she had always found delightful, how animated he gets, when he talks about his dreams, plans or projects.  And she loves, how his phantasy works.

“Oh, yes!”  He declares between mouthfuls.  And then begins to chatter about, how he was swimming in the ocean and got to know a turtle, who invited him to visit their kingdom, a secret underwater turtle society, where he could understand every turtles’ language.

“…and then we went to a huge, purple coral reef!  And I could breath and talk underwater the whole time, mom!  It was so awesome!”  He exclaims with a grin as he finishes the last of his breakfast.  Cat chuckles at his enthusiasm and pours him another glass of mango juice.

As Carter eyes his glass, he slowly becomes more serious.  He looks over at his mother, his eyes fall on the apple juice that she is slowly sipping.  He squirms a bit and Cat knows, he is preparing to ask her something.

“Mom?  Was there something else?  Are you truly OK?”  He bites his lower lip uncertainly.  And Cat lets out a soundless sigh.  She should have known.  Her boy is too perceptive to let this go.  She prepares to answer, when Carter worriedly blurts out:

“Grandma isn’t coming to visit us, is she?”  His eyes are wide with horror.

“Hell no!”  Cat emphatically says, before she can check herself.  “I mean no.  She better not.”  She amends somewhat.

“Then?”  Carter tilts his head to the side.  A habit he picked up from his father.

Cat lifts her glass to finish her juice to buy herself time.  Which is clearly the wrong move, since Carter’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Mom?  What have you done?”  He questions slowly.

“Nothing!”  She exclaims too quickly.  Seriously, her son inherited all her powers at ferreting out information.  Which isn't that delightful at all to be the receiving end of it.

“It’s about Kara, isn’t it?  You aren’t close to anyone else.  You wouldn’t be bothered by anyone else.”  Carter asks tiredly.  Cat is scrambling to put on her infamous poker face, but she knows she has failed, she can’t hide her surprise at just how well Carter apparently knows her and can read her.

He gets up, takes the bottle of apple juice out of the fridge and pours her another glass then plops down next to her, facing her.

Cat gratefully takes a sip before she lies through her teeth:          
“It’s not that bad.”  Carter lifts an eyebrow.

“All right, it is that bad.  But I have no idea, what to do about it, so I am trying to sell myself that it isn’t as bad as I fear it is.”  She mumbles out.  She tries not to think about, how she reached the point, where she is apparently in need of her 13 year-old son’s counsel.

“She rattled, confused you and perhaps made you insecure, so you said something harsh to her.  Pushed her away.”  Carter says knowingly.

With anyone else Cat would place a few well aimed jabs and quips and deny everything.  But as it is, she vowed to never use certain tones with her son, and she is also never going to lie to him.  Perhaps not tell him the whole truth, but she won’t lie to him.  So she slowly nods.

“Mo-om!” The displeasure is clear in his voice.

If Cat wouldn’t have been up half of the night, she would never ever try to justify herself to Carter, but as it is, she blurts out:

“I know, junior!  This is one of the subjects I have been agonising over for hours tonight!”  She huffs.

“You have been agonising over your assistant in the dead of the night?”  Carter asks and a slow, knowing grin stretches over his face.  For some inexplicable reason, Cat feels she is blushing.

 _‘If I ever had illusions about, how he managed to not inherit all the maddening Grant-traits, now they would be truly destroyed.’_   She thinks impressed.

She sighs tiredly, as she is reminded, just what a fine mess she managed to make.  And she still has no idea, what to do about it, what exactly a long-time solution could entail.

She absentmindedly and rather uncharacteristically begins to pick on the arm of her satin gown.  Carter gently takes her hand, when he sees just how insecure his mother is.

“Mom?  You are going to solve this.  I know it.”  He smiles slightly at her.  “Just, perhaps count to ten before you insult Kara the next time?”

 _‘Why you little!’_   She thinks amused.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?” She drawls.  Carter giggles, before he gives her a brief hug, then races down the hallway to his bathroom.  “Don’t forget your lunch!”  She calls after him.  She quickly tidies up the kitchen and walks to her own room.

In her walk-in-closet she gravitates without any conscious decision towards the dark-coloured section.  She doesn’t even realise what she is doing until she has a black blazer and a black blouse with small, deep red motifs in her hand.

 _‘Figures.’_   She rolls her eyes at her own predictability, but doesn’t put the items back.

Luckily, no one else knows that she likes to wear black, when she has to make particularly difficult decisions, or when she feels insecure.  Whenever she wears black, she feels like she is putting on an additional armour.  She grabs a matching pair of black, silk lingerie, and lastly a pair of rosewood-coloured pants.  Similar to wearing black, dressing in shades of red also has a meaning for Cat.  Red makes her feel confident, that she can achieve anything, and as such on difficult days, it is an ideal completion to black.

She takes a long shower, does her makeup and hair, dresses and unusually puts on the perfume that she prefers to wear in the evenings.  Its rich scent makes her feel powerful, like she is preparing for a battle.  She finds it almost intoxicating, how this perfume changes the very air around her to her advantage.

As if her suit of armour weren’t quite enough, she reaches out, again without any conscious thought on her part, for a wide, almost jagged, heavy, precious metal necklace.  This piece of jewellery coupled with her black pumps with the small metal spikes on the heels transform her appearance from brooding to fierce.  Cat is rather content with the result.

She grabs her pursue and checks her phone as she walks to the entrance.  There are no new scandals or crises yet.  And after Supergirl’s triumph over Bizarro last night, she is expecting a relatively calm morning.  Of course, she is yet to convince James Olsen to give an exclusive interview.  Even she could see, how shaken up he was yesterday.  So in a moment of never returning magnanimity, she left him off the hook for a few more hours.  But that is about to end.

“Carter!  Sweetheart, are you ready?  It’s time to go.”  She hasn’t even finished her sentence, when she hears him running down the hallway.  He is clutching his trusty backpack, and putting away his lunchbox.

“Yeah, mom!  Brushed my teeth, combed my hair.”  He says, before she can ask.  Cat activates the alarm and locks the door.

As they walk down the driveway Carter excitedly talks Cat’s ears off about what he is hoping to learn in Physics today.  Cat gives him her undivided attention, listens to him enthralled.  The driver opens the door for them and Carter practically dives into the car.

Cat has been using the same driver for years, he knows not to talk.  He merely nods at her, gets in and they are off to Carter’s school.  Baring a true crisis or particularly shocking news, Cat always takes time to accompany Carter in the mornings.

She lovingly smooths down his unruly, still damp hair, as he excitedly rummages in her backpack to show her his favourite part in his newest comic.  After a lull in the conversation Carter carefully asks her:

“Mom?  Do you know, what you are going to do?”  Cat smiles at his cautious question.

“I…  Yes.”  She answers.

“Good.”  With that Carter snuggles up to her and they fall into comfortable silence for the rest of the way.

Cat’s problem lies in having no idea, how to address, let alone deal with her mess of feelings that Kara causes.  Add to this that in her infinite grace, she managed to back herself into a particularly ugly corner, while pushing away and lashing out at Kara.  So yes, she knows that she is going to conduct herself professionally, cut all non-necessary ties to Kara until she manages to gather her thoughts, weight her options and address her fears.  After all, she isn’t going to go back on her own word, and she has done already enough damage to their relationship.  Not to mention, she is still angry with Kara, she doesn’t like to be thrown into delicate, potentially explosive situations in her personal life without any kind of indications, regardless of the outcome.  So yes, Cat knows, what she is going to do, she is going to hold herself to her own ultimatum.  She tries to ignore the nagging thought that she is taking the easiest way out, because this solution is temporary at best, since it doesn’t address the root of this fine situation at all, nor her fears or insecurities.  More so, it even has the potential to make everything worse.

She kisses Carter on his temple and hugs him briefly at his school.  She waits for him to go into the building before getting back to the car and driving off to CatCo.

_‘Yes.  Professionalism.  How hard can this be?’_

Except, no one is waiting for her with her latte when she exits her elevator.

And she doesn’t see her assistant for over three hours.

At first Cat is shocked.  This is so atypical for Kara.  She always shows up, before she vanishes to run some mysterious errands.  Then she feels the beginnings of fear.  What if James was wrong and something did happen to Kara last night?  What if she truly managed to drive Kara away?  What if the girl had finally enough yesterday?  Would she truly quit?  Would she ever see her again?  She sees Kara’s little friends whisper among themselves with slumped shoulders, exchanging worried looks.  Hobbit is even helplessly wringing his hands.  And now she is certain, something very bad happened.

Cat also knows that after her little speech yesterday - and since apparently Kara doesn’t trust her enough - the rules of the game are set.  And in this instance, she must follow them.  However how she hates to do so.  But she still has one particularly nasty card left up her sleeve.  Even, if she is reluctant to pull that one out, because this might as well ruin her remaining relationship with Kara.  But she just has to know that she is all right.  Consequences be damned.

So Cat does, what she does best.          
She hides her fear and feeling of helplessness behind her anger and marches out of her office to intimidate lesser people.

She is mildly impressed with herself that she has enough composure not to hit gremlin with those ugly flowers across the face, the moment he begins to lie to her with all the finesse of a barely toothing infant.  And to think that she even spelled him out, how she has been observing them and she knows he has been covering for Kara.  Some people are just beyond picking up even the most glaring hints.  So she does, what she told herself she isn’t going to do anymore after Kara’s heartfelt confession.  She threatens her job.  She doesn’t particularly care that her perceived heartlessness must have reached a legendary level by now, she simply needs to know that the girl is all right.

 _‘Zugzwang, Kara.’_   Cat thinks uneasily as she walks back to her office.   
_‘Impress me.  Lie to me.  Just be all right.’_

***

At any other given day, J’onn J’onzz wouldn’t mind impersonating Kara Danvers.  He finds skirts rather comfortable, and as Hank Henshaw, in that position, he doesn’t quite have the freedom to pull these knee-length, A-cut wonders off.           
At any other day, when Kara’s life isn’t in danger, and when Alex isn’t about to have a break down in her despair and worry.    
He also isn’t all that thrilled to spend his day as Cat Grant’s personal valet.          
Does that term even apply for Cat Grant?  Humans and their many silly notions still confuse him sometimes.

Out of habit he looks around the hallway, gauging any potential escape or attack routes.  As he sees two glowing red dots reflected back at him on the huge glass plane, he shakes his head slightly to will his eyes to take the shades of Kara’s.

His mission is rather straightforward.  Infiltrate the premises, show Kara’s face around, verbally engage target, avoid any additional contact with anyone else, find a believable excuse if needed, and lastly, disappear.  He is needed back at the DEO after all.

J’onn came to care about the Danvers sisters, almost as much as if they were his own daughters.  He would have never believed that a human and a Kryptonian would mean this much to him, but here he is, beside himself with worry for them both.      
They are the only two beings, who truly know him and also somewhat his story.  He doesn’t want to lose them as well.

Luckily, both his age and his training prevent anyone else seeing just how concerned and upset he is.  Most disturbingly, despite all of his experiences, despite his age, he feels truly useless in this instance.  The only help he could offer was to ensure that Kara still has a work to come back to.  He suspects just what this job means for the youngster.  So he is going to be an outstanding vassal to Cat Grant!   
Is that even the correct term?  Human hierarchies are beyond exasperating.

He is going to make sure that Kara has her job.  It most certainly won’t be as difficult as leading an alien-fighting, paramilitary organisation, while impersonating Hank Henshaw.  J’onn determinedly nods to himself.  And promptly stumbles.  Yes, this is going to be as easy as herding sand on Mars.  He just has to pay attention to the fact that this body has different dimensions and centre of mass than Hank’s.

Indeed, the operation could be pulled off excellently, if he were able to read Cat Grant’s mind, but as it is, he is going to lean on his knowledge about Kara and on his observations, how human women in their mid-twenties, as Kara appears to the outside world, would conduct themselves in different situations.  Despite being fairly confident about this, J’onn has to admit that not being able to read Cat Grant’s mind is a slight disadvantage.

Normally, being close to humans and looking into their eyes would be enough to read them, but if it comes to especially strong-willed, naturally guarded persons, he needs to have physical contact with them, similar to the process of altering memories, in order to properly read their minds.  And as he deducted during his previous run-ins with Cat Grant, the woman is one of these rare humans.  The best he can get out of her is very strong feelings.  Which won’t help him today.  But he could always read someone else, if anything truly unexpected would arise.  But he is confident that it won’t come to that.

J’onn determinedly marches into the next room.  It’s significantly bigger, with three entry points, not counting the glass wall, it’s sunlit but vulnerable.  The youngster’s two friends fall into step with him.  He answers their questions, because he can see, how they care for Kara.  And also, this act helps to solidify the illusion of Kara Danvers’ presence at the office.

However, he won’t be distracted from his task, he has to get back to the DEO as soon as possible after all.  So he shrugs them off promptly, even the insolent one.  And confidently walks into Cat Grant’s office.

He has got everything covered.

***

 _She_ is here.

_‘Finally!’_

For a long moment Cat is so relieved that her lips almost twitch into a half-smile.  But then she remembers, how angry she is with the girl.  For meddling with her life, for making her worry, _again_ , and for making her this insecure, indecisive and confused.  So she purses her lips in displeasure.

Cat’s eyes slowly glide up and down Kara out of habit and by now without any conscious decision on her part.  She appears healthy at the first look, and most certainly without that rash or whatever lie the hobbit tried to sell her.

It also looks like it’s going to be another dark day for aesthetic in the office, since Kara is wearing a sweater in a particularly ugly shade of green.  Cat can’t even name it.  Something that appears to be the bastard child of jade and seafoam green.  Whatever it is, the result reminds her of cheap toothpaste.  Cat barely can stop herself from letting out a tired sigh.  Kara has many remarkable qualities, but in certain regards she is beyond any hope.  At least, she spared Cat the visual agony of one of her yellow ochre cardigans that shouldn’t be worn by anyone who isn’t a hobby golfer over the age of 65.  On second thought, now that she looks again at today’s sweater, she decides that shade of green isn’t quite horrendous.  Merely awful.

Cat has to give Kara the credit of single-handedly teaching her how to appreciate small mercies in life.

As she looks again at Kara, her face hardens in anger.    
How dares she make her feel this unsettled?  How dares she make Cat worry for her this much?  But in the next moment Cat reminds herself that this is also the woman, who gave her the chance to be a part of Adam’s life.  Perhaps this is the time, where she should heed Carter’s off-handed advice.  She counts to ten.  And is promptly reminded, how this exercise has never worked for her.  So she grits her teeth, barks out orders for Kara and somehow, miraculously manages not to insult her.  Much.

However, Cat Grant is nothing if not perceptive.  She built an empire out of observing and manipulating people and her surroundings after all.  And even in the heat of a, in her standards, mild rant, she sees that there is something off about Kara.  The way she carries herself.  Something just isn’t right.  Cat knows to listen to her instincts, so she decides to pay close attention to Kara throughout the day.

When the girl gets her coffee order wrong, which she hasn’t done not once since she has been working for her, she is certain that there is something going on with Kara.  Something more than just a pointless act of insolence.  After all, Kara wouldn’t have any advantage of purposefully antagonising Cat further.  Cat hates not knowing all the variables, facts of a story.  And she hates it even more, if she has to play along, obeying rules of a game that she hasn’t set.  But since Kara clearly doesn’t trust her enough –she is not bitter about this, not at all, she feels merely anger, nothing else – and since she managed to back herself into a corner with her speech about professionalism, she can’t ask outright anyone, least of all Kara.  Besides, she doesn’t trust herself with tempering her anger down enough to ferret information out of Kara.  She would more likely slip up, insult and thus alienate her even more.  So she has two options here.

Cat knows, merely paying attention to Kara isn’t going to be enough.  She has to observe her and the two wannabe-Power Rangers as well.  Meanwhile she is going to manipulate the set of circumstances that she has power over in this situation - the office - , in order to get an idea, just what on Earth is going on behind the scenes.  So she gives Kara a series of tasks, which are disguised tests.

At first she couldn’t explain the origins of her sense of wrongness, but the more she observes Kara, the more glaring the small clues are.  
She notices, how Kara’s stance is different.  Her careless, but not entirely unattractive slouch is gone, her posture is erect.  Her head is slightly tilted upwards in an extremely atypical proud gesture.  Kara sometimes seems to catch herself and makes her shoulders drop slightly, but it is obvious that she tries to appear easy-going and careless, when that isn’t her default posture.  By far not.  Several times she moves her hands behind the small of her back in a classic “at-ease” military position, instead of wringing her hands, picking the sides of her skirt or holding a tablet close to her torso in her usual way that almost gives the impression she is hiding behind it.  Whenever she rights her glasses, it’s with precise, meticulous movements, not fiddling with them in a nervous tick.  And lastly, her intonation is off, uncharacteristically flat.

The Kara Danvers Cat has gotten to know has an inexplicable gracefulness to her movements, despite all her awkwardness, and accident-prone nature (well, if regularly breaking random objects can be even called that).  Her steps are light, fluid, dance-like.  She often uses just the balls of her feet, almost as if she glides through the air and she is touching down just out of habit.  When she stands while she isn’t concentrating on something, she likes to play with her balance, shifting from one leg to the other, gently swaying back and forth on the outer sides of her feet.  And most importantly, no matter how awful her day is, Kara Danvers always has a fleeting smile or a reassuring sentence for disheartened people around her.  She just can’t help her compassionate nature.  Not to mention the fact, that she also can’t hide her perkiness, with her penchant for jumping up and down and grinning from ear to ear, even if something just slightly better than non-displeasing happens.

This Kara however walks with wide, confident strides, putting her weight on her heels.  She doesn’t smile at anyone, and whenever she enters a room, her back is always to a wall, she seems to be more conscious of her surroundings, as strange as this sounds.

When Cat sees that gremlin slightly shrinks away from Kara, almost as if he were intimidated, Cat knows for sure that this person certainly looks like, but isn’t Kara Danvers.    
She has no idea, how the girl pulled something like this off, but this is the only explanation.

In this moment Cat Grant, the Queen of All Media slumps back in her chair overcome with fear and grief.

_‘But…  If something truly bad happened to Kara, they would tell me, wouldn’t they?  Certainly, they would fabricate an everyday cover story, but the outcome itself wouldn’t be changed...’_

She takes her glasses off and looks down at her lap.  She fists the fabric of her pants, and begins to count to help regulate her breaths.  When she has somewhat regained her control, she allows herself to finish her previous train of thought.

_‘The fact that they sent an impostor to fill her place indicates that they don’t want to draw attention to Kara’s absence.  Which means they assume, she’ll be back.’_

Cat’s relief and flicker of hope are quickly drowned in the all-consuming anger she feels.

_‘Oh, you better be back, Danvers!  Don’t you dare to quit on me in any shape or form!  We have unfinished business!’_

Cat almost growls.  She hasn’t felt this much anger since the epic row she had with her mother, when she got to know just which studies Cat had applied for.    
But even now, she knows she is at work, she isn’t going to throw a scene.  However how much she itches to crash something into splinters, she keeps her iron grip on her composure.  She slowly stands up, gently smooths down her blouse and walks to the front of her office.  With her hands on her hips, she calls The Impostor in.

The way Not-Kara furrows her brows and remembers to adjust - but not fiddle with - her glasses indicate that she at least knows Kara.  This only makes Cat angrier.  She grits her teeth, because she still can’t ask outright how or where Kara is.  All her anger is directed at the person in front of her, and with a small amount of satisfaction she sees, how she flinches.  Clearly, even The Impostor is intimidated by her.

_‘Good.’_

She barks out purposefully vague orders that only real Kara with her years-worth of experience would understand.  She knows she is petty and vindictive, but after this day of hell, she is going to take small fulfilments wherever she can.  Tormenting, and seeing the slightly overwhelmed look on Not-Kara’s face, are somewhat satisfying.

Now, in the solitude of her office, Cat mulls over, if she could turn the presence of The Impostor to her advantage.  Find out, just how the “Day of the Two Karas” was arranged, as she likes to call that particular fiasco.  But she almost immediately discards this idea.  Not only doesn’t matter this anymore in the light of the possibility that Kara could have been hurt, but also Kara has gone to great lengths to hide her identity from her.  Just to keep this underpaid, ungrateful job that still somehow has a meaning for Kara that Cat can’t understand.  So despite what every cell in her body screams, for some unfathomable reason, Cat has accepted Kara’s terms.  She plays along with this charade.  Although, at times she wants nothing more than to slam a hard copy of Tolstoy’s complete works, with The Death of Ivan Ilyich at the top, on Kara’s desk, and make the girl think hard about her life choices, and about just whose life illusions she should care about.

Of course, Cat does nothing of the sort.  She has just hurt and pushed Kara away the moment she had realised, just how much Kara already is under her armour.   
Ugly truth is, the Great Cat Grant has gotten scared of a 25 year old… _girl_ , or whatever.  More precisely, she has gotten scared of the mess of feelings Kara causes, of her own weakness and of never-voiced possibilities.  
So, naturally Cat has pushed and fucked up.

And now something serious is going on with Kara.           
And of course, in a completely unrelated matter, Supergirl hasn’t been sighted since last night either.

Cat hates to feel this vulnerable.  She hates that now, atop of everything else, she is also worrying about Kara’s well-being.  And this thought pushes everything in the back of her mind.  At the end, this is the reason why she isn’t going to use the presence of The Impostor.

When she declares in Not-Kara’s face, how she has seen the real her, she feels her already impossible anger growing.  Yes, she has seen the real Kara, that earnestness, the curiosity, that maddening but beautiful compassion, that amazing mind that hasn’t been allowed yet to truly come to shine, the breath-taking potentials that haven’t been reached yet by far, the annoying awkwardness, the aggravating naiveté…  To think that some incompetent fool could believe for a hot moment that they could ever impersonate just a fraction of all that wonder that Kara Danvers is!  And then Cat hasn’t even taken Kara’s other… _occupation_ into account!

So yes, Cat’s second biggest problem at the moment is, that she can’t unsee the real Kara.  The first that Kara is in trouble.  And Cat is powerless to do anything about it.  She hates this feeling!  She wants to kick something.  Several somethings.  And hit them as well.

As she looks up, out at the bullpen, she sees that the Powerpuff Boys are gone.

_‘Good.  I dearly hope for your shakes, you are capable to help her!’_

Cat suspects that any moment now Not-Kara is about to give her a plausible explanation, why she has to be away from the office the rest of the afternoon.  And she is right, as always, but when the fake tears and the elementary-yard-worthy acting comes out, she is stupefied for a moment.

_‘Just what on Earth do they think of me?!  No wonder this country is, where it is, if its government’s agents are this incompetent!’_

She can not suffer the sight of this Impostor any longer, so she allows her to leave.  As she looks at Not-Kara’s retreating back, her hands wishfully twitch to throw something after her.  But she will not _ever_ do anything to harm _that_ body.  Even if right now Kara isn’t the one residing in it.  Or whatever.  (Not to mention the small technicality that Kara most likely couldn’t be harmed this easily.)

Cat looks down at her wrist watch.  It’s barely past two in the afternoon, she decides to go home early nevertheless.  This day turned out even worse, than the day she realised George W. Bush wasn’t pulling an elaborate prank, and the certified baboon was actually serious when he announced his presidential candidacy.  So she is not going to stay any longer in the office.  The layouts have already been approved for the Tribune, and the formatting disaster for the web articles in the economy section are being repaired right now.  With everything else the editors-in-chief are going to have to deal with.  She picks up her cell and calls her driver herself.

By the time she is downstairs the car is already waiting for her, and within moments she is on her way to home.  She sends a message to Carter’s nanny that she can go home early then she leans back and closes her eyes.  The stress, sleepless night and the emotional whirlwind of a day are catching up with her just now.

She feels wretched and she is craving apple juice.

At home she has a mug of coffee, and she somehow manages not to touch the bottle of apple juice.  
After all, she isn’t that little girl anymore, who hid in her room afternoons, so her mother doesn’t see that she made her cry again.  She isn’t that little girl anymore, whose nanny snuck into her room with a glass of apple juice, a reassuring smile, a kiss to her forehead and a whispered, accented “Be brave, bambina!”, before she gave her a new book that Cat would devour.

Cat changes her pumps for a pair of sneakers, her blouse and blazer for a white t-shirt, after all, she doesn’t need her armour of black around Carter.  She grabs the keys to one of her SUVs, her pursue and a pair of sunglasses and with that she is off to pick up Carter from school.

Cat loves to drive, especially on the coastal road.  Perhaps her need for control is satisfied during the process of driving, or the clear definition and simultaneous destruction of space excites her, or perhaps she just plain enjoys this activity, fact is, Cat loves to drive and she is really good at it.  As she feels the roaring engine, the small hill of metal that obeys to her every whim, and the distance that she is creating from the rest of the world, she slowly feels herself becoming less angry and hurt, allowing different thoughts come to the forefront of her mind.

_‘What if something so awful happened to Kara and I was so preoccupied with my rage and pride that I can’t even tell her “thank you” anymore?’_

She bites her lower lip and her grip on the steering-wheel tightens.

_‘No!  She is going to be back.  She always comes back.’_

She sighs.

_‘Kara, you brave, brave, foolish girl.’_

She takes a deep breath and doesn’t stop herself from following her last thought.

_‘No, that isn’t right!  Kara, you wonderful woman.’_

In this moment, Cat finally allows herself to think and feel what she has been denying for a long time.

***

As Carter’s eyes land on his mother, he immediately grins and runs up to her, practically tackling her into her second fierce embrace of the day.  Cat can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm over seeing her this early, and over the fact that her son even if he rarely ever is affectionate, he is absolutely unself-conscious about it.

“Hello, my sweet boy!”  Although her voice comes out as a wheezy whisper, her grin is just as wide as Carter’s.  Some might argue that her slim frame isn’t quite suited to be tackled into hugs and pushed with this much force against a car, but when Carter is affectionate, the world could end for all Cat cares.

“Mom!  Hi!”  Carter exclaims as he is excitedly bouncing on his feet.  His hands are already playing with the straps of his backpack.

“Do you need to say bye to anyone?”  She asks gently.

“No.” He quickly answers, suddenly very still, looking down at the ground.  Cat’s heart breaks, again for her amazing little boy.  However she doesn’t say anything, nor reacts in any way.  Her hands twitch, but she is not reaching out for Carter, she knows, he wouldn’t welcome it now.

“Then we should be on our way, junior!  What do you say?”  She asks with a small smile.

The breathy “Yes!” barely leaves Carter’s lips, before he dashes into the car.  Cat can’t help but chuckle.  She gets in, waits until he is buckled up and slowly pulls away from the school.

“What do you want to do before doing your homework, Carter?”  By now the question isn’t a question anymore, since she knows what he will say, rather a sign that Carter’s after school routine is about to begin.

“Walk on the beach!”  He earnestly answers, almost in a manner, as if he had to dispel a serious misunderstanding.  And Cat is chuckling again.  She just loves him so much.

“Tell me about your day.  Was your Physics lesson as exciting, as you hoped for?”  She gently probes.  She knows not to ask him about friends or other students.  She also knows that Carter would tell her, if he were facing any kind of trouble.

“Oh, mom!  It was way more awesome!  There was this young new teacher and she could answer all my questions!  And imagine, she didn’t get impatient with me, but listened and after the lesson, she even suggested some books I should read!” 

And so Cat listens enthralled to theories about and experiments with electricity until they are home.  She asks him to explain or clarify some connections, since it has been ages she has learned this.  But now, she couldn’t imagine wanting to spend her afternoon any other way than listening to Carter explaining her Physics.  And her baby boy is so wonderful!  The way he lights up, when he talks about one of his passions, how his posture changes to ramrod straight, how he uses a soft, careful, measured tone, keeping his explanations on point and very understandable, how he tilts his head in an unconscious gesture of pride that he can tell his mom something new, he radiates confidence, and he is just so smart and beautiful.  Cat in turn tells him small anecdotes of Tesla’s and Faraday’s lives, she has after all always needed to unearth the stories, motivations behind people’s actions, in order to truly find fascination towards their theories or work.  And as Carter listens to her, wide-eyed, sitting absolutely still with shiny eyes, she can feel his love and admiration for her.

The moment she parks in the garage and kills the engine, she turns around.  She would love to hug Carter now, but she knows after his earlier bear hug, he’d feel uncomfortable, so she just smiles softly at him.

“Put your backpack at its place, grab your jacket and then come and meet me on the backyard.”

She hasn’t even finished her sentence, when he is already out of the car.  Back in the house she puts the keys and her pursue down, she leaves even her cell on the counter.  Whenever she is at the beach with Carter, those precious moments aren’t allowed to be disturbed by anything, least of all, some incompetent employee.  She grabs a pullover for herself and a bottle of mango juice for Carter.  By the time she walks out of the terrace doors, Carter is already waiting for her.

The walks on the beach are one of their rituals.  Normally, Carter is so absorbed in observing the water, the sand and in anything the ocean leaves on the beach that they don’t talk.  Unless Carter finds something particularly interesting that he just has to show his mother.

Today however Carter walks next to Cat.  His eyes are directed either to the ground or to the ocean.  The way he nervously drums against the side of his thigh, and how he slightly shuffles tell Cat that he wants to ask her something.  She isn’t going to push him, she waits for him until he is ready.

Cat relishes Carter’s company, the silence, the sound of the waves, the lights and the scent of the ocean.  This afternoon ritual of theirs is also her time to relax after a long day.  She loves these quite moments.

“How was your day, mom?”  Carter asks finally.  His tone sounds slightly uncertain, as if he were dissatisfied with his sentence, but isn’t quite sure, how he should form the question more precisely.  Cat knows though that he isn’t asking out of politeness and just what he truly means.

“Very strange.”  _‘To use an understatement.’_   After a brief pause to decide just how she should answer to remain as truthful as she can, but to also offer the desired answer, she elaborates.

“Kara wasn’t at work today.”

“Do you think, this is because of what you said to her?”  Carter asks slightly fearfully.

“No, sweetheart.  Or at least I hope not.”  She frowns at this possibility.  But no, this wasn’t the reason for Kara’s absence.  Her friends were way too agitated for that.  “I think she is in some kind of trouble.”

“Trouble?”  His voice comes out higher, it’s obvious just how much he cares for Kara.

“I don’t think it is all that serious.  I would have been told otherwise.”  She hurriedly reassures Carter.  And tries to believe it herself.

“Oh.  That makes sense.”  Carter says relieved.  “So you still have a plan?”

“Indeed I do.”  They smile slowly, conspiratorially at each other.

 _‘If Kara isn’t back tomorrow, Fred and Shaggy won’t know what hit them.  I will have my answers, even if I have to burn down half the world for them!’_   Cat thinks.

“Mom?  You got this.”  Carter reaches out and briefly touches Cat on her forearm.  He slowly lifts his eyes and looks encouragingly, _encouragingly!_ , at his mother.

Cat melts on the spot, naturally.  She doesn’t reach out to hug Carter, his fleeting touch indicates that he still wouldn’t welcome it.

They silently walk further on the beach, until Cat finally says:

“Carter?  You are a wonderful son.”  Her voice is deeper with earnestness.

Carter looks her in the eye and flatly answers: “I know, mother,” with all the infamous Grant-arrogance.

And Cat couldn’t be more proud.

***

The next morning Cat is wearing black again.  By the time she enters her private elevator, she is not only battling the usual fine mess of emotions just the thought of Kara causes, her anger and yesterday’s worry, but also trepidation of what today might bring.  Cat doesn’t deal well – or rather, at all – with any of these feelings isolated, let alone all of them put together.  She is quite in a state.  Luckily, her Ice-Queen persona is firmly in place and no one will notice anything of her inner turmoil.  But still she needed the added feeling of security in the form of a black blouse.  Taking even the worst possibilities into account, how this day just might turn out, she choose an azure coloured, knee-length skirt.  Ever since her pregnancy with Carter, azure has always been the colour she finds most comforting. 

And that is entirely Carter’s father’s fault.  When he got to know of her pregnancy, he decided that they are having a daughter.  Despite Cat’s quite vocal protestations that they shouldn’t force labels onto their child already before their birth, and that it doesn’t matter how their child is going to identify themselves as long as they are happy and healthy, he insisted that they are having a girl.  He fancies himself as a feminist (Cat and he have very different definitions of feminism), he declared that he isn’t going to force any gender roles on his baby girl.  So one afternoon, without consulting Cat, he bought everything for their child in azure blue.  As if that would have had any meaning.  Naturally, after Carter’s birth he had a small melt-down.  And Cat, true to herself, just to jab at him every time he picked Carter up for the weekends, kept dressing Carter in azure blue garments for the first few months of his life.

Ever since then she associates comfort and a feeling of warmth with that colour.  That’s why she is wearing it today.  Both her blouse and skirt have a clean, simple but very flattering cut, and she’d forgone to put on any dramatic jewellery today.  All in all, her look has a rather aloof effect.  Which perfectly suits her needs.

Cat is trying to convince herself, she isn’t drumming on her thumb out of anxiety but out of impatience.  Her elevator finally comes to a halt.

 _‘Just.  Be here.’_   She fleetingly thinks, before the door opens.

And there she is.  Kara.  The real one.  Slightly rocking on her feet, fiddling with her glasses, holding Cat’s latte out.  Cat exhales relived.  She hasn’t even realised she had held her breath back.  She strides out of the elevator and stops in front of Kara, accepting her coffee.

“Kar - “ she catches herself in the last moment, “-la.”  She has a role to play after all.  She is going to be the epitome of a professional boss.  The Cat Grant version of it.

Except, that idea flies right out of the window, as soon as she looks at Kara’s face more closely.  
She is ashen, her eyes are red rimmed, uncharacteristically dull and she isn’t meeting Cat’s gaze.

“Good morning, Miss Grant.”  The tone is flat, without any of her usual perky intonations, but unlike The Impostor’s voice yesterday, this isn’t a sign of control or training, rather being absolutely overwhelmed.

 _‘Overwhelmed by what?  Just what on Earth happened to her?’_   Cat thinks as she marches into her office.  Looks like, she is going to have to keep an eye on Kara today.  She tells herself that the sudden cold she feels has nothing to do with worry.

“Get Hardwick on the phone, I want to know, if yesterday’s formatting issues have been solved for good, and what exactly their cause was.  Tell Jenna, she can forget cutting the interview with Trump even by those 200 words, I want to give that human-shaped, bigoted amoeba the platform to hopefully discredit himself even more.  Send Evans in for 10 o’clock, he failed to research the company, whose add he set for publishing on the third page of the Tribune.  I am sooner going to come to work with dreads, wearing pink sweatpants and a John Lennon t-shirt than allow a company that funds pro-life and anti-alien organisations to advertise in my newspaper!”

She slams her pursue down on her desk and looks back at Kara.  The moment Kara enters her office, her shoulders slump more and she draws her elbows in close to her ribs, as if she were trying to protect herself unconsciously.  Her atypical paleness is even more concerning in this light.  Add to this that in true Danvers’ fashion she choose a grey blouse that emphasises it, instead of counterweighting it.  Her posture, how she holds herself, even her clothes give the impression that Kara wants to… fade away?  Draw as little attention to herself as possible.  Yet, this is not her usual trying to lay low and miserably failing at it.  This is something else, something much more disconcerting.

Kara finishes taking notes, whispers a “Right away, Miss Grant,” and she is gone.

Cat is disturbed by the whole exchange, by everything she noticed about Kara.  She bites her lower lip and for a moment thinks about, if she should do something.  Yesterday something truly serious must have happened, to see Sunny Danvers this disheartened, this must be more than falling out of graces.

She knows, she can very convincingly lie to everyone, but not to herself.  She can put on the façade of professionalism, but at the end that’s just it.  A façade.  Even if her pride and fear still won’t allow her to reach out for Kara.  Besides, she is not supposed to know anything, and it’s not like Kara didn’t have a whole cheerleading squad for herself.  Two grown up men and a protective sister are definitely a crowd.  Kara is surely going to lean on them, if she is this despondent.

Cat tries to tell herself how Kara surely doesn’t need her.  And even if Kara had this bizarre notion, what on Earth could she offer her with all her everlasting optimism and all the charm of a broken whiskey bottle?  Cat knows, she is brilliant, drop-dead gorgeous and that power looks especially attractive on middle-aged women, but she can not ignore, how she needed _months_ and a nudge from her teenaged son to finally see, what has been right in front of her.  Cat has to admit, she is exceptionally talented in reading other people, recognising their stories and lending them just the perfect voice, but when it comes to her own emotional state, she is tone-deaf and out of sync with the universe most of the time.  
Even now, she is half-paralysed by fear, which she would never ever allow anyone to see.  By now her most developed skill –and she is not throwing this word lightly around – is hiding her true emotions so well that even she has problem naming them.

So no, Cat Grant doesn’t believe, she has anything to offer to Kara “Sunny” Danvers.

But that doesn’t mean she is not worried about her.  (Making her worry about her, is one of the things Cat is never going to forgive Kara.)  So she does, what she has always been good at, she observes and looks for the untold sides of a story.

That’s how Cat notices Kara’s smile never reaches her eyes and it’s always just too bright when Chip and Dale are around.  And those two! They hover, lean on too close and put their hands too often on Kara’s shoulders.  Looking at their fleeting but relieved smiles, Cat suspects they are just happy to have Kara back and this is their unconscious way to reassure themselves that Kara isn’t going anywhere, but they should still read the signs.  How Kara tolerates their bro-pats on the shoulder for a moment, but soon she steps back.  How her whole demeanour around them is just fake, and how Kara reached a point where she does something, she has never ever done before: she lies with her smiles.

 _‘She doesn’t want them to know just how much she is hurting.’_  Cat realises.

It doesn’t matter.  She can’t do anything.  She must be professional.  Besides, she is not supposed to know anything.  With that she slams a third pair of glasses on her nose and tries to concentrate on her monitor.  When she finally realises, she sees even worse than without glasses, she begins to swear under her nose in Italian.  High time to go and terrorise, boost the productivity in the Arts and Entertainment Department.  She stalks out of her office, yells at and insults several unfortunate souls – but hardly ever undeserving ones, Kara would want her to be better than that – and thus Cat returns in better spirits.  Which lasts until she catches the end of Kara’s phone call.

“Yes, Alex.  I’m all right.  You don’t have to worry about me.”  Kara mumbles.  Her left arm is held protectively over her stomach, as if she is trying to shield herself from this world.  She looks just so unbelievably sad and lost.

Cat immediately turns on her heels and goes six floors lower.  Now that she thinks about it, the Department for Regional Radio Stations needs some flogging as well.

She is not going to interfere in Kara’s life.  No, she won’t.

The rest of the morning passes in relative calm, and to Cat’s immense relief, finally in productivity.  She looks up from the newest layouts to tell Kara, the Tribune’s sport section needs to be completely re-done, when she is suddenly absolutely overwhelmed by the sight of Kara.  She stands with her back to the rest of the bullpen, her profile is half-turned to Cat.  She is hugging herself, her hands are balled into fists and her head is slightly tipped back.  As if she were looking at the stars.     
Through the ceiling.        
In broad daylight.           
She is also completely, inhumanely still, which is not eerie, at all.  She isn’t even breathing, as far as Cat can tell.  And dammit, somehow despite wearing a grey blouse, Kara Danvers has never before looked more ethereal.

Cat’s eyes flicker up again to Kara’s face, and her breath hitches.

Cat would take any given moment Kara’s awkward, fumbling yet somehow still graceful beauty with her open smiles and earnest eyes over the gorgeousness of this ethereal, tragic stature.

 _‘She is grieving.’_   Cat finally puts a name to everything she has seen from her today.  _‘And she is pushing everyone who knows away from her.  Why?  Why would she do that?  Is she protecting them by lying to them?  There is another possibility.’_ Cat thinks uncomfortably _.  ’She doesn’t want anyone to know just how hurt and vulnerable she is.  She is putting on masks around her loved ones.’_

As it seems, Cat is the only one, who notices the first truly alarming signs.  Because if a person as open and needing of the love of a big support system as Kara is, distances herself from this system for whatever reason, there are going to be sever repercussions.

Cat looks out of her window to the sunlit, mid-afternoon sky.  She wishes, she could feel the scent of the ocean.  That would help her find that calm state of mind, where all her insecurities fade into nothingness.  She is self-aware enough to recognise, this is a moment where she needs to grow as a person.  Where her pride, selfishness and instinct to protect herself suddenly lose their hold on her.  There is someone, who doesn’t even realise, how much she needs Cat to be a better person now.  
Cat reminds herself that Carter believes in her.  And finally that yearned for calmness engulfs Cat.  She knows, what she is going to do.  She is the only one Kara has left, she needs to reach out for her.

She is Cat Grant, she can do anything, once she puts her mind to it.  And when she is this determined, she can turn the world inside out.

At first, she gives Kara several small tasks that keep her far away from the added pressure of her friends, while simultaneously she has to concentrate enough on them to occupy her mind.  After a short while, Cat has to admit these small attempts of hers to reach out for Kara are a failure, since Kara is too far gone to notice Cat’s small hints and her atypical protectiveness.  Cat obviously needs to be more direct.  She has to talk to her.  The question is just how.

Since she isn’t supposed to know anything and she has been rather harsh with Kara lately, surely Kara wouldn’t respond well, or at all, to a frank, on point approach.  She needs an indirect one.  And this is, where Cat falters for a moment.        
If Carter were upset, she would talk about something that he loves, making him comfortable, until he feels safe enough to open up and tell Cat, what is bothering him.  This of course wouldn’t work with Kara, since their relationship lacks the trust and the needed level of comfort in each other’s company.  
She could try and give some advice as a mentor, but as past experience shows, she is rather shit at this role, if she actively tries to fill it.  And even if this worked, there is still the small obstacle that it wouldn’t fit the new boundaries of their “professional” relationship.  Thus Kara might retreat even more.        
She could share something personal, open up to Kara first and hope for the best outcome.  Right.  She could also chop off her own arm that would be less strange from her.  Cat is self-aware enough to know, she would spectacularly fail and humiliate herself in the process, if she were to go this much against her own nature.

There is no other possibility left, but to use her knowledge gained by observation and tug at one particular thread that is one of the many making up Kara’s story.

She stands up, smooths down her skirt and nods to herself.  She feels in her bones that this is the right approach.  She grabs her pursue and calls out for Kara.

“Kiera, I am stepping out briefly, hold the phones.”  Kara glances confusedly at Cat’s calendar, but she doesn’t say anything apart from: “Yes, Miss Grant”.

It’s almost the end of the work day, Cat’s driver is already waiting for her downstairs.

“We don’t need the car.”  She says.  When she tells him just what she wants, he doesn’t bat an eye lash, to his credit.  He merely accepts and carries Cat’s pursue as he steps in front of her to break her a way with his bulky frame through the crowd on the pavement.

Cat calls Carter and asks him, whether he would be all right, if she were to come home later than usual.  He, in true Grant fashion of course, grabs the opportunity to ask for a sleepover at his father’s since he is working on a new type of plane engine, whose first drafts Carter is apparently dying to see.  She naturally can’t help but allow him.

By the time Cat is back at the office, the bullpen is empty.  But she knows Kara is still there, since her jacket and cell are still on her desk.  She looks around curiously and when she doesn’t see her immediately, she walks into her office.  From the corner of her eye she sees Kara standing on her balcony.  Again, her head is tilted upwards, she is looking at the sky with so much sadness and loss on her face that Cat is honestly surprised, she isn’t crying.

Cat slowly walks up to Kara and stands beside her on the balcony.  Her movements seem to jolt Kara out of her preoccupied state.  She looks down at the floor, takes a small step back, but before she can leave Cat’s word stops her.

“Stay.”  Cat feels Kara’s eyes on her, but she doesn’t look away the skyscrapers in the distance.  After a long moment Kara resumes her previous position, looking up at the sky, standing next to Cat.  Neither of them break the silence.  Cat wants Kara to accept her presence, without getting overwhelmed by her.  When Kara shakily exhales and her posture somewhat loses its tension, Cat knows this is her chance.  Her only chance.  Suddenly her palms are sweaty and she feels small, but she doesn’t let her insecurities and fears sweep over her mind.  This isn’t about her after all.

So Cat slowly moves her hand towards Kara and offers her the bar of chocolate she bought her earlier.

Her movements break the spell Kara seems to be under.  She snaps her head to the side and looks wide-eyed, uncomprehending at Cat.

Cat knows she has to use words now.  She swallows and lightly shuffles her left foot, without even realising.  She is concentrating so hard on getting out what she wants just _right_.  She looks into Kara’s impossible blue eyes and says at last:

“On particularly awful days you like to have milk chocolate.  When you feel accomplished, you reward yourself with chilly flavoured dark chocolate.  When you feel victorious, you eat dark chocolate with raspberry.  When you feel you were particularly sneaky, you chose dark chocolate with mint.  It’s always Lindt and it’s always dark chocolate.  Milk chocolate is reserved for truly harrowing days.”

Cat falls silent, for some inexplicable reason she blushes like she were 21 again, but she holds out her hand with the bar of milk chocolate steadily and looks right into Kara’s eyes.

Kara’s sad, but finally, for the first time today, sincere smile prove that she understands what went unsaid.  She knows what Cat really means.

_I see you.  You matter.  I see you.  No matter, what happened, I still see you.  You don’t have to pretend for me.  I see you._

“You went out and got me a bar of chocolate, because you knew, I’d need it.”  Kara says at last with a hint of wonder in her tone.

“Bronisław was also with me.”  Cat feels the ridiculous need to be completely honest, which must be the result of something in the air.  Under Kara’s intense gaze, she blushes again.  Under different circumstances, she’d toy with the thought of slapping herself.  Hard.

“You brought your driver along.  Because you don’t touch money.  Too many germs.”  Kara flashes another small, broken but sincere smile at Cat.  Her true answer, _“I see you too.”_ goes unsaid as well.

“Thank you.”  She accepts the chocolate.

Slowly, she turns her gaze back to the sky.  Cat can see that her previous stature-like posture is gone.  Kara is working her jaw, her fingers twitch restlessly.  Cat knows, she is going to talk at last.  So she leans sideways against the railing, looks at Kara and patiently waits for her.

“When I was a child, I had this conviction that if I looked at the sky, no one could see my tears, because they would flow backwards.”  She says at last, not taking her eyes off the sky.

Cat regards Kara carefully and comes to a decision.

“Where I come from,” she begins in a soft but strangely emotionless voice, “tears were a sign of weakness, and as such never to be shown.”  She feels Kara abruptly looking at her, but she can’t meet her gaze, she needs to finish this.

“However, since then I have learned differently.  At times they are a sign of freedom.  That you are free enough to allow yourself to feel the true extent of your emotions.  Or that you lead a life, where you can be free of concerns about the image you must uphold.  At times they are a sign of bravery.  And yes, at times, they are a sign of weakness.  All in all, they are a part of the human experience, and as such, we shouldn’t fear or be ashamed of them.  At least that’s what I always tell Carter.”

Cat brings her hand up and absentmindedly plays with her hair.  She is still not looking at Kara.

“I like to think that tears are untold stories of us.  Stories that couldn’t be held back anymore.  However, they should be told in the proper environment.  Any other day, I’d say that is never ever the workplace.  But we are on the balcony.  It’s after hours.  You have your chocolate.  And I had my apple juice yesterday.”  Cat finally looks back at Kara.

“What if I can’t stop crying, once I begin?”  Kara whispers.

If it were anyone else but Kara, well, Cat wouldn’t be having this conversation to begin with.  If it were anyone else lesser, Cat would say, how this is a truly pointless question, because sooner or later one would get dehydrated ether way.      
However, Kara is the one asking.  And Cat can see in her eyes that she is genuinely afraid to begin crying, for she might not be able to stop.  Even if she clearly, desperately needed this kind of release.  Cat herself might not understand this need, but she recognises its importance for Kara.

Kara, who has been brave for her, when she was unable to.  Kara, who reached out for Adam in her name.  Now, Cat feels the need to be brave for her.  So she does something that she hasn’t done with anyone apart from Carter.  She answers honestly and encourages.

“Some have always more stories to be told than others, Kara.  Whether or not they realise this.  And regardless of how those stories are told, or just who their audience is.”

As Cat looks into Kara’s eyes, for once she is the one, whose gaze reveals just how much she believes in Kara.  She reaches out and lightly touches Kara on the back of her hand.

One teardrop falls.

The second follows.

Kara takes a shaky breath, and finally, finally she lets go.  Soon she is sobbing.  Between hiccups and too rapid, flat breaths she haltingly rasps out:

“There is no one else left.”  
“No one.”           
“I was there…”   
“I am the last to remember them.”           
“Tears aren’t enough… words are needed.”          
“So someone else remembers too…”

Kara’s trembling becomes uncontrollable.  She is taking breath too fast, she is almost hyperventilating.  Cat reaches out and pulls her in.  As Kara feels her closeness, she slumps against her.  She doesn’t have the emotional strength to do anything but lean against Cat.  Cat lifts Kara’s hand up and places it over her heart.  She is breathing slowly, deeply, willing Kara to fall into rhythm with her.

Once Kara’s sobs subside into silent crying and her breathing is somewhat under control, Cat gently leads Kara to the couch.  She sits down and draws Kara close to her.  This time Kara leans her head on Cat’s shoulder and embraces her waist as she curls up next to her.

“There is no one else left.  I am the last to…”  Kara whispers, trails off.

Cat’s heart goes out for her.  She would have never thought, she would come to care this much about someone.

“Tell me then, Kara.”  Cat murmurs.  She embraces Kara’s shoulder pulling her closer to her.        
“I will protect your story.”  She fiercely declares.  The “ _I will protect you_ ”, goes unsaid, nevertheless it is understood.

“My aunt.  My mother’s identical twin.”  She can’t bring herself to say the words.  “And I was there.  After all these years.  Again.  And I lost everyone, everything, again.”  Her shoulders are shaking with her silent crying.

Cat knows Kara can’t be comforted now.  The best she can do is to ground her in the here and now.  She changes her hold on Kara.  Her hands aren’t running up and down on her back, nor is she caressing Kara’s hair, but she holds her tightly to herself with as much force as she is capable of.  It doesn’t matter that her arms are going to hurt tomorrow.  All that matters is anchoring Kara, so that she feels, she isn’t alone.

Cat murmurs in her hair over and over again: “I am here.  You are not alone.”

“They are all gone.  Everyone is.”  Kara whispers.

“Tell me then.  I’ll remember them with you.  I’ll protect them.  I am here.”  Cat vows.

Haltingly, in broken sentences Kara begins to tell, how her aunt taught her to be true to herself, how she stayed up with her telling her stories, when she had nightmares…

In her next sentence she slips up and unknowingly switches to her mother tongue.  Cat listens to the foreign language, to its rhythm, how it is favouring softer consonants like “l”-s and “m”-s, how its “r”-s are rolled differently, how the language has an overall softness because it prefers the vowels “a” and “e” and because it hardly ever uses sounds created deep in the throat.

Cat listens and doesn’t interrupt Kara.  This moment is about Kara and about her grief, after all.  She can ask her to tell these stories again later.  They have time.

Cat holds Kara tighter and murmurs into her hair:             
“I am here.  I am here for you, Kara.  You are not alone.”

**Author's Note:**

> ... and to think that I began to watch this show just for Alex.  
>  I wanted to write a 3000 word long one-shot. I believe it's safe to say: my hands slipped.  
> fact is, I have two more ideas for this pairing, so stay tuned!  
> English is my 2nd foreign language, so feedback is appreciated.


End file.
